Silence Breeds More Silence
by Payton.Pride
Summary: Lovino Vargas has always made a point to protect his brother from weirdos and creeps, but what'll happen when the person he needs to 'protect' him from just so happens to be their Spanish boss, Mr. Carriedo? Or maybe Lovino is just using it as an excuse to spy on the man. After all, he is sex on legs. Spamano. Office!AU Yaoi. Rated M for mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Lovino Vargas has always made a point to protect his brother from weirdos and creeps, but what'll happen when the person he needs to 'protect' him from just so happens to be their Spanish boss, Mr. Carriedo? Or maybe Lovino is just using it as an excuse to spy on the man. After all, he is sex on legs. Spamano. Office!AU Yaoi. Rated M for mature themes.**

**Enjoy~!**

Chapter One

Lovino Vargas

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Lovino stressed, bending back in his chair with a languid sigh. He stared at his brother, whom was standing right behind his chair, and growled. "Tell me you're joking."

"N-no, _Fratello_~! I have to stay and work overtime with Mr. Carriedo… like I said," Feliciano twiddled his thumbs and looked shyly at his older sibling. "Don't worry; I'll be home by ten!"

Lovino Vargas, the more volatile of the two Italians, huffed with exasperation. "I thought I already explained this to you Feli; that bastard boss of ours is trying to take you for granted, and I can see that. You know, one of these days he's going to ravish your innocent body and I won't be there to fucking help, _capisce_?"

"Lovino," he whined. "Mr. Carriedo isn't like that, I swear! He's super kind and always gives me tomatoes, even though I don't like them that much! He's really cool and even keeps some turtles in his office—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, he's the greatest man in the world and all that crap. But why is he making you work overtime?" Lovino swiveled in his chair and went to grab some files he hadn't finished going through. "I mean, who the fuck does he think he is?"

Over the side of the cubicle, Francis, Lovino's obnoxious 'neighbor' popped up and tutted, his arms hanging over the sides of the divider lazily. "Oh, _mon petit Italien_, you wouldn't want Anto—Mr. Carriedo to hear of your insolence, non? Why are you always so angry?" He glanced at Feliciano and smiled. "Why not act a bit like your brother? He's so cute~!"

Lovino ground his teeth together in a vain attempt to keep calm. Out of all the things the damn Frenchman could've said to him... Count to three, make the anger go away. 1…2…3… He took a deep breath before glaring at the man. "Back the fuck off before I shove a stapler up you ass."

Francis blinked. Once. Twice. Then, he let out a bout of laughter before settling back into his cubicle to finish his work. "So angry all the time," he said. "You could learn a few things from Feli. And I'm sure you'd both be great in bed—"

"Stapler up your ass," Lovino reminded, crossing his arms over his chest. "And for good measure, I'll cut off your dick and feed it to you in your sleep."

Francis went quiet after that, and rightfully so.

Lovino glanced back at Feliciano, who was still standing behind him like a lost puppy, unsure of what to do. He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward of the headache he felt was coming. "Fine. Work your damn overtime. But just know that I'll kill 'Mr. Carriedo,'" he put air quotes around the name, saying it as sarcastically as possible, "if he so much as touches you. Got it?"

Feliciano mock saluted. "Aye, aye, _fratello_! I got it~!"

"Good. Now I actually have to get some work done before I go home, Feli. So if you would be so kind as to go do whatever you do with that fucking Spanish asshole then…" He trailed off, waving his hand though the air. As Feliciano went to walk away he continued. "And remember. If he tries to touch the butt, stab him in the eye with a sharpened pencil. Got it?"

Feliciano giggled. "You're so overprotective, ve~! But don't worry; I'll take your advice."

X

When Lovino woke up the next morning, the sky was dark and the air was thick with fog. He moved slowly, stiffly, as he got off his bed and stretched to the ceiling, groaning as his bones cracked and popped. Shuffling to the bathroom clad in just his boxers, Lovino lazily got ready for what he could already tell was going to be a long day.

On the way to the kitchen for some breakfast, he knocked on Feliciano's door to wake him up. "It's morning Mr. Fucking Secretary; get up."

He heard the muffled groans from the other side and sighed, continuing his brisk pace towards the kitchen. It was a Wednesday, and if Lovino knew anything about his younger brother it was that he hated Wednesdays (the reason was far behind Lovino because he hated every day anyways).

He continued to make a small breakfast for himself since he already acknowledged that Feliciano would be on his way to get stupid Carriedo his morning coffee as soon as he got up and wouldn't have time to eat first. Leafing through his wallet he pulled out a ten and slapped it on the table so Feli could at least grab something to eat on his way to work.

Sliding his pancakes off the pan and onto a white glass plate, he sat at the table by the balcony window and began to eat hurriedly. About ten minutes later, Feliciano joined him, hopping with his shirt half on and his tie in his mouth. "You need any fucking help?"

Feliciano nodded and waddled, his pants also half-way down, to his brother. He allowed Lovino to help him wiggle his shirt down while he pulled on his slacks. Lovino tightened the tie with rare display of gentleness and looked up at his brother, who, while standing, towered over him by a head or so.

"Ah, Lovi, I'm going to be late~!" Feliciano tore away from Lovino's grasp as soon as the tie was in place and giggled, grabbing the money off the table. "Thanks _fratello_!" Slipping on his shoes, he glanced at the clock. "And don't forget that the office party is tonight!"

_Crap. I totally forgot._

"Yeah, yeah. I already know that Feli. I'm your _older _brother, sheesh. I think I can remember things on my own." Lovino crossed his arms over his chest, trepidation slowly sinking in. He hated parties; his lack of friends and of social skills steadily making itself more prominent in his mind. Whatever. He wouldn't be able to skip out anyway—Feliciano had a skill for honing in on him if he tried to run away. "Oi, aren't you going to be late?"

Feliciano nodded, making sure his hair wasn't messy before rushing out the door, waving to Lovino as he left with a distant 'see you later fratello'. Lovino leaned back in his chair with a sigh; this year's Christmas party was supposed to be at a bar or something, and knowing Francis and his other co-workers, most of them would either be getting smashed or getting it on, and the Italian had no desire to be near such gross people.

He checked the clock again, supposing he should probably get going too. Another day, another fucking dollar. A part of him wanted to see Mr. Carriedo, and another part of him wanted to stab his Spanish boss with a well sharpened knife where the sun doesn't shine. Either way, he couldn't deny it— the man was sex on legs. _Hot _sex on legs.

Getting up, the man grabbed his keys off the counter before resignedly accepting his fate.

He was so screwed. And as far as work and god-forsaken Christmas parties, he was pretty fucked there too.

_Just keep avoiding the people you hate, _he reminded himself, walking out the door. _Just for a bit longer and you can watch them burn in hell. _

X

Short chapter is short. Well, the other ones will probably be longer than this, but yep! Sorry for always starting new fanfictions, heh. I don't own Hetalia, as you probably can guess. And thanks to the beta~!

I assume you know what the little language bits mean, but if you need me to translate the little things every chapter just tell me.

Review please?


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I know the first chapter didn't give much for the story, but thank you guys for all of the favorites/follows! I don't own hetalia. Hope you continue to like this story.

_Eres tan mono- _you're so cute.

Chapter Two

Enter: Idiotic Boss

Feliciano stepped into the large office building, bubbling and happy as he usually was. In his right hand was a coffee for his boss and in the other was a donut for himself. He grinned as he entered the elevator, eager to get to work. He truly did love the place, and he knew Lovino had only taken the job so he could stay with him, but that only served to make him love the place more. Who else could say that they worked with their Fratello?

Exiting on Mr. Carriedo's floor, he skipped—sometimes he got chewed out by the German who worked on the floor also for running in the halls—to the end where Antonio's door was. He rapped his knuckles on the door, smiled when he heard Mr. Carriedo call for him to come in from the other side, and cracked it open to slip inside, still holding the coffee in his left hand.

"Good morning Feli, how're you? I didn't overwork you last night, did I?" The Spaniard was a kind man; tan, tall, and down to earth. Though he was one of the many bosses in the building and had a lot of money, he rarely ever came to work in a suit unless he had a meeting to attend. He always treated his employees with respect, and for that, Feliciano was extremely grateful—mostly because he'd had some bad history with other jobs in his past.

"Not at all, sir~!" Feliciano mock-saluted, holding out the espresso out to the older man before him.

Mr. Carriedo strode forward confidently, his usual smile pulling at his lips. "What did I tell you Feli? Call me Antonio. Or Tony. Just not sir… that makes me feel old."

"Okay," Feliciano said, scarfing down the donut before clearing his throat happily. "So what do you need done today, _Antonio_?"

"Ah, the company Christmas party is tonight, so we're not too busy today. I just need you to pick my suit up from the dry cleaners. Then, I need some files to be run by Mr. Beilschmidt before the end of the day." Antonio walked back to his desk and ran his eyes over a few more files before casually asking, "Is your, ah, brother coming?"

"Eh?" Feliciano studied his boss with a calm eye, looking up and down his face for any clues to reveal the intention of his question. "Si, he is. But why did you want to know? I didn't even know you _knew _my fratello."

Antonio's face went a bit pink and he coughed into his hand awkwardly. "Well, you see, I don't _know _your brother, I was just wondering."

"Oh!" His lips upturned into his usual idiotic smile. "Okay! Wait, who's Mr. Beilschmidt?"

"Ludwig," Antonio supplied. After seeing the blank look on Feliciano's face he laughed. "The German down the hall."

Feliciano made a sound of recognition and Antonio laughed again, ruffling his hair. "_Eres tan mono_! Hurry along, Feli, we have deadlines to meet." The little Italian nodded enthusiastically, buzzing with energy as he tore back into the hall with the files in hand, screaming for Ludwig on the top of his lungs. The Spaniard shook his head, thoroughly amused, before settling back in his chair. He interlaced his fingers and stared out at the sunrise coming over the busy streets. Hopefully he'd see his cute secretary's brother later. Chiding himself for being a bit too hasty, he turned back to his desk.

Oh, Antonio never was a patient person.

X

Lovino hated parties. He hated everything about them. The music, the noise, the people. He simply hated being around others and he hated doing anything that involved being social. Taking a sip of his wine (he had refused any sort of beer), he closed his eyes to block out the light swimming in front of his eyes.

The company had rented out the whole god-damn bar for the stupid party, for Christ's Sake! Lovino squeezed his eyes shut even more and sighed, letting his head hit the table with a _thump_. He was only a little buzzed; he had a long way to go until he was drunk, or even mildly tipsy.

He'd always had a higher tolerance to alcohol than most people so he'd ordered one of the strongest wines they had. Letting the red liquid travel in circles in the glass, he stared into the deep color before sighing. People around him were having such a great time, and here he was, trying to get himself hammered. Setting down the glass and hopping from the stool, Lovino only felt mildly pleased that the room was swaying. Good. At least he was getting _something _out of drinking so much.

"Damn," he muttered, making his way through the suited bodies of his co-workers. "Fuck this shit. Fuck this dumb-ass party and fuck—Ow." Lovino stumbled, bumping into someone. Before he could register what was happening, he fell onto his back with a low hiss, indignation burning in his gut. Before he could cuss out whoever had bumped into him, he heard a voice he hadn't expected to hear near his face.

"Oh, _dios mio_, I'm sorry Lovino," Antonio said. When Lovino made an attempt to shout at him, he just kept going. "I didn't see you there, I apologize. Here, let me help you up."

"No way, I can stand myself. I don't need your help." Lovino stubbornly got to his feet, his world tipping dangerously. Wow, maybe he'd had more to drink than he'd originally thought.

"So, are you okay Lovino?"

"How do you even know my fucking name?" So maybe he _was _a bit drunk. After all, he wouldn't have been so rude to his _boss _if he was sober. Or maybe he would have, being him.

"Feliciano talks about you a lot," the Spaniard said. "Hey, do you need to sit down? You look kind of sick."

Before Lovino could mutter obstinacies at the man before him, Feliciano came barreling through the bodies. "Lovi, Lovi, Lovi~! Can I have the keys to the car?"

Pulling a face, Lovino looked at his brother as if he'd grown another head. "Why?"

Feliciano smiled, looking back to Ludwig, who was at the bar in the corner. "Luddie's car got towed earlier today, so I thought I'd drive him home and stuff." Leaning forward, Feliciano whispered in Lovino's ear, "And I think he's single!"

Sputtering, Lovino backed up, grabbing his keys through the front of his pants. "Why would I give you my keys just so you could go get it on with that Kraut? And how am I supposed to get home then, huh?"

"I can drive you," Antonio said from his side. Lovino gagged. He had almost forgotten his boss was there. Feliciano cheered and rushed to Antonio, hugging him happily.

"Yay! So is that alright Fratello?"

"Fine," Lovino murmured, thrusting his keys into his brother's hands. He didn't want to admit to himself that his heart was beating in his chest at a million beats per second, or that his face was heating up quicker than he would have liked. Feliciano kissed him on the cheek before rushing off to see the Krauty bastard.

He was alone with Antonio.

Turning on his heels, Lovino stormed back to the bar. Ordering another wine, he tried to keep his eyes away from the Spaniard as much as possible. Damn, was he always that attractive?

"Are you sure you can drink more?" Antonio laughed. It was deep and rose like a crescendo.

"Like hell I can," he answered immediately, downing the whole glass to prove his point. Antonio raised his eyebrow but said nothing, turning to the barista to ask for a beer. "Just you watch. I don't even _get _drunk."

"Mmm," Antonio hummed, grinning. "I'm sure you don't."

"Are you mocking me?" Lovino shot him a dirty look over the rim of his next glass, hiccupping in the middle of his next sip. He groaned. "Wait. I'm goin' to go to th' bathroom. I don't feel too good."

Antonio frowned. "You want me to go with you?"

"Damn it! I'm not five; I can go to the bathroom myself." He stood, ignoring his swimming vision, and traveled to the bathroom, trying his best to avoid human interaction while he walked along the walls. Had he really drunk that much wine? He had felt fine before.

When he got to the bathroom he flung himself into a stall, retching up everything in his stomach. He hadn't stopped drinking because he was so nervous with Antonio near him, and he kept drinking and drinking. What had it been? Four more glasses? He groaned, bringing his sleeve to wipe at his mouth.

Maybe he could just walk home.

Nodding, he was determined not to make a bigger fool of himself that he probably had. Scooting past bodies, he made a bee-line for the door.

Fuck parties and fuck Mr. Carriedo, he didn't need _anyone's _help.

X

After a few minutes, Antonio became a bit disheartened. Where was the Italian? He decided to head to the bathroom and check if he was still there, but when he went to look, no one was there except for Ivan Braginski, one of his other employees. He frowned, making his way out of the bathroom.

He guessed he'd just have to wait.

X

AN: oh poor Spain, Romano's already trying to walk home in the middle of December hammered. Sigh. Ignore any mistakes please, it's late and my arm is killing me ^~^

R&R please~?


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